


Bureocracy saves the day (Or how Dean Winchester charmed his way into godhood by accident)

by luxshine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28183836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxshine/pseuds/luxshine
Summary: Dean was sure he was dying. He had a hole in his chest that was holding up together just thanks to the rebar that had created it.And yet, no Reaper in sight. He was still painfully breathing, still hearing Sam cry over his not-dead body.What was going on?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 23
Kudos: 116





	Bureocracy saves the day (Or how Dean Winchester charmed his way into godhood by accident)

Dean closed his eyes for the last time, after saying goodbye to his brother.

It was an stupid way to die, in a routine hunt for monsters they had killed thousands of times before, but Dean supposed he was ready to go. At least, the pain on his back would stop.

Except it wasn’t stopping.

And Sam’s sobs were starting to sound like the ugly crying that Dean hated because it always made him feel uncomfortable.

Dean dared to open one eye to confirm that yes, he was still on the barn. Still pinned like a stupid butterfly, and his back still hurting like hell. And no Reaper in sight to get him out of his misery.

After a few minutes more of staying very still and wondering where the hell was a Reaper, or why he was still breathing despite a big gaping hole where his right lung used to be, Dean finally decided to speak up. Sam was still crying softly, not moving to get the kids out of harm, and the longer Dean stayed silent, the more awkward it was going to get.

It was still awkward as hell, because he had given such a nice goodbye speech.

“Sam?”

His voice sounded hoarse, and he spat a bit of blood. Yeah, that was a huge sign that he should be dead. Dean took a deep breath despite the pain, and cringed. He had been dead enough times to know this was not a wound you walked away from. And still, he was still alive.

Where the hell was his reaper? Were they so angry that he had killed a couple of Deaths now that they were willing to let him suffer unnecessarily? Wasn’t Jack supposed to fix that?

“Sam!” Dean managed to yell, a bit louder now. Enough that Sam looked up surprised, tears stopping immediately.

“Dean? You’re still alive?”

Sam’s face was a mixture of bitchface #3, when things didn’t go the way Sam expected, and such obvious relief that Dean couldn’t help but laugh. Because yes, his brother was happy but also worried. And Dean couldn’t blame him. They weren’t supposed to get miracles anymore. With Chuck being completely human, the Winchesters were no longer “Main characters” or had “Plot armor”, whatever the hell that meant.

Of course, Sam didn’t understand why he was laughing, so relief gave way to full bitchface in seconds.

“If this was a joke, Dean…”

“No… I just…” Dean coughed again, blood splattering his shirt. “I should be dead. But something weird is going on.”

“I prayed to Jack, do you think he…?” Sam confessed. It was a possibility, Dean supposed. But he thought that if the kid was keeping an eye on them despite promising he’d be hands off, he’d at least heal Dean enough so that he wouldn’t be spitting blood.

Before Dean could answer, the barn started shaking, and the light bulbs exploded. Sam was on his feet immediately, machete in hand, as Dean held his breath, and not just because it hurt, but also because it finally hit him why the barn was familiar. And as he tried not to get his hopes up, as he tried to remind himself that Cas was gone forever, into the Empty because he had lo… because he had sacrificed himself for Dean, the doors blasted open and there was Castiel, looking as badass and powerful as he had 12 years before, in that same barn. Just like when Dean had met him. And it made Dean’s heart hurt even more than the rebar on his back.

It had to be an hallucination.

“Cas?!” Or not, judging by Sam’s hopeful tone. “You’re back! Hurry, you got to help Dean! He’s…”

“I know, Sam,” Cas said, squinting a bit. He was angry, Dean could tell, and who could blame the angel. After all, he had sacrificed himself for wasDean, and as a dumbass, Dean had gone and gotten himself killed in just a week or so. If their roles were reversed, Dean would be killing Cas himself. “This is… very inconvenient.”

“You think?” Dean managed to spit, despite being overjoyed at seen Cas again. He had been so sure he’d never see his angel… his friend again. And even if the situation couldn’t be worse, given that Dean is still sure he was dying, he was happy he got to see Cas again on Earth.

Given how Cas was glaring at him, Dean was not sure the angel would’ve looked for him in heaven.

“We weren’t supposed to interfere again, Dean,” Castiel told him, as he walked towards him. It was then when Dean realized that Cas wasn’t glaring at him exactly, but at the stupid rebar piercing his body.

Cas made a gesture that reminded Dean of a long time ago, when Cas still was not precisely on Team Free Will, and used his powers to close a dripping pipe. And suddenly, the pressure on his chest disappeared, and he was falling to the ground, free from the rebar.

Still not healed, still bleeding, and still alive.

Dean was very confused.

“What’s going on, Cas?” Sam asked, frowning. It was obvious to Dean that his brother had reached the same conclusion as he had. That hole was not a survivable wound, not even with a hospital. Even with an angel at hand, Cas hadn’t arrived in time to save Dean and Dean should’ve been dead. “Are you… are you going to heal Dean? Please?”

But Dean kept breathing, and Cas was back to his old sphinx act.

“Yes, of course,” Cas hesitated, just a second, before touching Dean’s forehead. It was then when Dean realized that he had not said the words that were stuck in his throat after Cas confessed his love, what Dean tried to say when the Empty arrived and only muttered to himself when he was alone.

Cas was acting as if he didn’t know how Dean had reacted to his final confession, which meant that they need to talk. But right there, with Sam as a witness, was not the time.

Dean took a deep breath as the pain disappeared, and he could feel his body knitting itself up. It was just like in the old days, before they knew about Chuck, before Cas lost his powers. Apparently, Jack had fixed things up upstairs quite fast.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean rasped, touching Cas’s arm before the angel could get out of reach. “You saved me again.”

“Not really, Dean,” Cas replied, making Sam frown. “I just made sure your body wouldn’t betray your… situation.”

“Ok, that’s enough of cryptic remarks, Cas,” Sam said before Dean could voice the same concern. “What is going on?”

Cas looked away, as if he really didn’t want to speak. And Dean could feel his heart stopping again, not due to a wound, but because he had thought he’d never see that shy expression again. Cas had not just healed his body, his mere presence had filled the void he had been carrying around ever since before they beat Chuck.

“I will explain in the Bunker, where we have some privacy,” Cas finally said, then looked straight into Dean’s eyes. Straight into Dean’s soul. “I trust you can get there without getting killed again?”

Dean was about to yell indignantly when he realized Cas was smiling. And the warmth in his chest grew.

Yes, he could wait to hear the explanation in the Bunker, especially if it meant Cas was staying around.

* * *

After they got to the bunker, Dean took a quick shower. He was anxious to know what had happened, why he was still alive, but at the same time, he didn’t want to hear about it with his own blood drying on his chest.

He also took a chance to check how his body looked. Cas had done an excellent job healing him. There were no scars left, not even from his old wounds. It wasn’t until he was washing his arm that he noticed that one scar had returned: the old handprint, as red and bright as it had been the first time Dean had noticed it, when Cas saved him that first time.

Dean touched it gingerly, and could’ve sworn he felt a small tingle from it on his fingers.

It was probably just wishful thinking, he considered, as he came out of his room, Miracle barking happily at his feet.

“Ok, Cas. Spill,” he said, trying to keep a casual tone. He wanted to be alone with the angel, away from Sam, so they could clear the air about their last conversation. But he also knew that unless they knew why he was still alive, Sam would never leave them alone. “How did I survive being skewered like that?”

“We were really hoping that you would be able to stay alive until the negotiations finished,” Cas replied, looking down. It wasn’t until a few seconds had passed that Dean realized that he was looking at his name, carved in the table.

“Negotiations?” Sam asked at the same time that Dean said “Wait, who’s we? You and Jack?”

Castiel sighed, caressing the letters on the table lightly. “There is a… disagreement as to where Dean should spend the afterlife. We had barely started negotiating the situation when word came that you had been mortally wounded, so Jack sent me to make sure you would not die until they agreed where to send you.”

At that, Cas looked up, locking eyes with Dean, who immediately swallowed. Cas’s gaze was as intense as ever, looking straight into Dean’s soul. And Dean wondered how he had been so stupid not to notice the love that Cas’s eyes irradiated. It was so clear, now that Dean knew what to look for. Now that he knew the truth. And he wondered how Cas couldn’t see the same on his own eyes. How much he meant to Dean.

He wasn’t sure how long they were silent, looking at each other, when Sam interrupted, rasping his throat.

“What do you mean, where Dean is going to spend the afterlife?” Sam asked, frowning. Bitchface #9, one that Dean rarely saw not directed at himself. “We’re going to Heaven, aren’t we? Don’t we deserve it after… after everything?”

“When you die, you are going to Heaven, Sam. There’s no other claims on your soul,” Cas said, finally sitting down. Dean licked his lips. He was starting to feel he needed a beer for this conversation, but he was sure it wasn’t the time to leave for the kitchen. “Unfortunately, that is not the same for Dean. He sold his soul to Hell, after all.”

“That was ages ago! And I did go to Hell, you got me out, remember? How does that still count?” Dean asked, indignant. If it still counted, he wouldn’t have made it to heaven when he was killed, a year after, would he? Or had Zachariah also done something about that?

“Rowena and Crowley were reviewing the contracts… they claim that since you also were a Knight of Hell, they…”

“It was just for four months!” Dean didn’t like remembering those months, when he had been under Crowley’s orders and tried to kill Sam and Cas.

“I know, Dean,” At least, Cas didn’t sound any happier at the prospect.”Neither Jack nor I want you to go back to that, even if the Queen of Hell insists she has a right to you as her First Knight.”

“I still don’t see the problem,” Sam frowned. “I mean, Rowena likes Jack too. I am sure she’ll let Dean go to Heaven, and was just maybe stalling? Doing us a favor so that Dean wouldn’t die at the barn even if Jack said he’d be hands off as God?”

Dean perked at the possibility. He didn’t want to go to hell ever again, but a small interference from Rowena saving his life and giving him a chance to see Cas again? It was good enough to send her a fruit basket. However, Cas was shaking his head in the negative. There was more to the story apparently.

“Hell is not the only Afterlife who laid a claim on Dean. Odin demands that he takes Loki’s place, “ Cas sighed tiredly. “And when we were trying to figure out what he meant, Oberon of the fae sent a messenger demanding that when Dean Winchester’s soul departed his body, he was sent back to the faery realm.” At this, Cas looked at Dean, confused. “Apparently you were a good cup bearer?”

“Oberon?” Sam asked, as Dean shook his head. It had been a long time ago, when Sam had lost his soul, and he really didn’t want to revisit those memories. Sure, Sam’s soul was now firmly stuck to his body and there were no signs of damage after Cas had healed him, but Dean really didn’t want to chance anything. Not again.

“Eve sent a Leviathan to demand that Dean was to be sent to Purgatory as he was the last monster she created before Dean killed her, which, well, Rowena didn’t like. Then the Empty came to Heaven again. It declared that the Second Death had promised Dean to it, so no one else could have you,” Cas nodded to Dean. “I’m sorry. Apparently, me talking about you made it curious.”

“It’s ok, Cas,” Dean was a bit flattered that Cas had spent his own afterlife talking about him. “Uh… It is not getting me, is it?”

“The Reapers won’t allow it,” Cas sighed. “They… they want you to be the new Death, given that you were the cause of the death of the First and most thought Billie was just… uh… keeping the throne warm for you.”

“Wait, so… Dean is not dying because seven afterlives want him?” Sam frowned. “But… Jack is God, isn’t he? Can’t he… overrule everyone else?”

“Don’t be in such a hurry for me to die, Sam,” Dean joked. But mostly because he was starting to feel nervous. He hadn’t liked it when God seemed to have it in for him, even before they knew God was Chuck, he didn’t like this much attention on him.

“If he did, it could start a cosmic war,” Castiel ignored Dean’s joke, but the glare he sent Dean’s way made clear he didn’t appreciate it. “Heaven doesn’t have the strength right now to fight so… we thought a more diplomatic route would be better. But then, Dean almost died, just as each faction had send an ambassador to a neutral point to begin negotiations.”

Sam nodded, as if that made sense, which irked Dean a little.

“Don’t I get a say on this?” Dean finally asked, reeling over the implications of what Cas was saying. He was grateful he was alive, but at the same time, he was not worth a cosmic war.

“Sorry,” Cas lowered his head again. Now, Dean knew, he was actually sorry for the situation. “But my suggestion that you choose was not welcomed.”

“Well, at least you tried,” Dean grumbled. Now he needed that beer. Or twenty.

“So, what now? You’re… not leaving again, are you?” Sam asked the question Dean wanted to ask. But Dean didn’t really trust his voice with that. He knew he’d sound like a needy girlfriend, which was not who he wanted to be with his angel.

“ I have been tasked with making sure Dean isn’t mortally wounded again,” Cas smiled weakly. Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at that. At the least something good was coming out of all this. “So no. I will not be leaving for the foreseeable future.”

Oh, yes. Dean thought. That was worth getting almost killed by a stupid rebar.

* * *

Three hours and about all the alcohol in the bunker later, Dean was starting to rethink his strategy. He had been hoping Sam would leave them alone to talk, but the Sasquatch was far more interested in knowing exactly why Dean couldn’t just choose Heaven and be done with it –and while Dean did appreciate that at least someone was considering his own wishes on the matter, he still thought it was weird seeing Sam arguing against temporary immortality. Maybe his brother was just jealous that so many afterlives wanted Dean- so beers had come into the equation.

Only that Dean had drunk far more than his usual limit, and still didn’t even feel a buzz. While Sam had fallen asleep about ten minutes earlier, in the middle of Castiel’s explanation on why Eve’s claim for Dean was sort of valid, despite Dean killing her and sending her back to Purgatory seconds later.

“I’m not drunk,” Dean said, interrupting Cas, but low enough not to wake up Sam. “Is that your doing?”

“I wouldn’t want you to trip and break your neck,” Cas explained, looking away. “I’ve also cleaned your arteries… again. Please, don’t undo all my hard work.”

Dean sighed. He had been hoping to get drunk for the next part of the conversation. On the other hand, if he had gotten drunk, Cas would’ve probably thought it was the alcohol talking, and not Dean’s heart.

“About what you said before…”

“We don’t need to talk about that if it makes you uncomfortable, Dean…” Cas said at the same time as Dean gathered his courage. “I told you, saying it was enough.”

“It’s not enough for me,” Dean said, getting up and way too close to Cas. Close enough to kiss if he wanted. And oh, now that he knew he could have Cas, that Cas felt the same way? He wanted. But he needed to clear the air first. “Especially because you never let ME say it. What was it you said after Purgatory? That you knew so I didn’t have to speak up?”

Cas took a step back, but Dean was not going to let him go. So he stepped forward, until he had Castiel, angel of the Lord, pressed against the wall of the Bunker.

“It’s not fair, Cas, that you got to say it and I didn’t,” Dean said, breathing the words against Castiel’s lips. “That you went away before I could reply. That you said you knew my feelings… and yet thought me was someone you couldn’t have.”

And, armed with courage as Castiel was not flying away, Dean finally closed the distance between them and locked their lips into a passionate kiss.

“I love you too, sunshine,”

* * *

Time kept going on, as usual.

The brothers kept hunting, but after another close call, Sam decided to call it quits. He wanted to marry Eileen and have a family, and since he wasn’t wanted by every afterlife and their cousin, he was not going to risk it. Dean, who had also been a bit more careful, quite aware that Cas couldn’t let him know WHO was winning the arguments in the negotiation, was his Best Man at the wedding, and later, the first client when Sam and Eileen opened a new Roadhouse bar, for all the hunters to have a good network, so that no one would be left out of the loop ever again.

It helped a lot that Jack broke his own “no interference” rule to the wedding, and both he and Rowena agreed that no supernatural creature, demonic or heavenly, could enter the new Roadhouse if they had ill intent. It would be a safe space, and that’s how Sam wanted it.

As a wedding gift, Jack cleaned up Sam’s criminal records from every human mind and database, so that his uncle could go back to law school. Sam enrolled online, and passed with honors, becoming the first hunter lawyer. While he rarely took cases, all his clients were probono, and most of them victims of some supernatural stuff.

By the time he was ready to go, at 103 years old and the oldest non-supernaturally protected hunter in history, Sam was surrounded by family and friends. His kids, his grandkids and even a couple great grand kids. None of them active hunters, but all of them aware of the dangers that went bump in the night. And all of them the apple of Sam’s life.

Eileen had died a few months earlier, and she was the first one to meet him in the new heaven, before Jack begged him to become Heaven’s representative in the ongoing talks about Dean’s final rest.

Dean and Cas kept hunting, living in the bunker and training new hunters as they met them. Chuck was no longer writing their fate, but that didn’t mean the world stopped and became a perfect postcard. It only meant that their hunts no longer had the fate of the world in their hands.

By the time had Sam turned 45, Dean noticed he had stopped aging. Cas said it was a precaution, just to make sure old age didn’t take him before negotiations were over. When Dean held his first niece in his hands, a tiny little girl named Eileen Madison Winchester, he looked no older than 26. A gift/bribery from Rowena who gave Dean eternal youth while on Earth, since the negotiations were slow and going slower.

Dean thanked her but told her there was no way he’d be back as a Knight of Hell. After all, his husband was an angel and that would be a conflict of interests.

Castiel beamed at being called Dean’s husband so brightly, that all supernatural creatures thought Earth had suddenly grown a new sun.

Life kept going on for Dean like that. Saving People, Hunting things and visiting the family business to see how the ever growing Winchester-Leahy clan was doing.

A hunting trip to Mexico complicated his after-life situation a bit as Quetzalcoatl decided that Dean should’ve honored with the Aztec warriors of the past, but by then the negotiations were so stalled that the other leaders found the new addition somewhat fun.

(Which was not the case when Anubis also came knocking, since Anubis wasn’t known for having a sense of humor. By then Sam was 70, and both he and Castiel wondered if Dean had just pissed off the whole Egyptian Pantheon because he liked being functionally immortal. Dean swore up and down that it was not the case, it had been the only way to save a young woman from being eaten by a giant crocodile)

It wasn’t until Sam went to Heaven for the final time when Dean and Cas noticed that something else had changed. It started with a small whisper in the back of Dean’s head at weird times. As if someone was calling his name, but no matter where they were, Dean never could find the person calling.

At least not until a hunt with a young hunter that had not been trained by them, who didn’t know Dean personally so he wasn’t aware his partner at the time was THE Dean Winchester… and started praying to Dean to protect them from the Arachnes that had invaded America again.

After that, Dean realized that there were a lot of people praying to him, that he was hearing the prayers, and it took a while for both him and Cas to get used to the idea.

Same as when they found out that hunters were starting to wear a little squirrel charm to symbolize Dean. Apparently, Odin had gotten tired to wait, and he and Crowley of all people had ganged up together to start the rumor that Dean was the God of Hunters, protector of Innocents, and that he favored the Squirrel as his totem.

It took Cas a lot of persuasion to keep Dean to go to the nearest crossroad to kick the resurrected King of the Crossroad’s ass.

Even if, in private, Dean would smile when they spotted a makeshift altar for him, with a tiny squirrel statue, hidden in old motels and bars. He had also missed the old nickname.

Life went on, and so did Dean and Cas.

As for which afterlife ended up claiming the God of Hunters? Well, the negotiations are still ongoing so I will have to get back to you on that.

**Author's Note:**

> Well... I managed a One shot! Go me! Now I just have to go back and finish all the wips... Wish me monsters!


End file.
